It is the pride of the native hunter to kill a bison with every arrow, and not to shoot twice at the same animal. The younger hunters are fierce and anxious rivals in this sport, knowing that the result of the day’s hunt will be the talk of the whole village, and that on their success or failure will much depend the estimation in which they are held. So each successive hunt produces its eager competitors for honor, some being desirous of wiping off past disgrace by present success, and others equally anxious to maintain the reputation which they have gained on former occasions.
Even in those parts of the country where the bow has been almost entirely superseded by fire-arms, it is equally a point of honor to kill the bison with a single shot, and to claim a slain bison for every bullet. In such cases, the hunter takes little pains in loading his gun. He carries the powder loose in his pocket or bag, scoops hastily a random quantity into the gun, drops upon it, without any wadding, a bullet wetted in the mouth, and the loading is complete. The muzzle of the gun is kept uppermost until the moment for firing, when the gun is dropped, aimed, and fired simultaneously, without being brought to the shoulder.
The skill displayed in managing the horse is the more remarkable, as these Indians use no bit by which the animal can be guided. They have nothing but a slight hide halter tied round the lower jaw of the horse, the only use of which is to cause it to halt when required. This is popularly called the “lariat,” a corruption from the French word, l’arêt.
The excitement caused by this chase is indescribable, though Mr. Catlin gives a very graphic idea in a few words:—“I have always counted myself a prudent man, yet I have often waked, as it were, out of the delirium of the chase, into which I had fallen as into an agitated sleep, and through which I had passed as through a delightful dream—where to have died would have been to have remained, riding on, without a struggle or a pang.”
Sometimes the bison is destroyed in a much less sporting manner, the precipice and the pound being the two modes which are usually followed. The reader may probably be aware that, in those parts of North America inhabited by the bison, the surface of the plain is frequently interrupted by ravines with precipitous sides and of tremendous depth. When a hunting party see a herd of bisons within several miles of one of these ravines, they quietly separate, and steal round the herd, so as to place the bisons between themselves and the ravine.
They then gently move forward, and the bisons, retreating from them, draw nearer and nearer to the ravine, at the same time becoming packed closer and closer together. Suddenly the hunters raise a shout, and dash forward at the bisons. The affrighted animals take to flight at their best speed, and run on until they reach the edge of the ravine. Here the foremost bisons try to check themselves, but to no avail, as they are pressed forward by their companions behind, and thus almost the whole of the herd are forced over the precipice, and killed by the fall. Even those in the rear, which at last see their danger, and try to escape, have to run the gauntlet of their enemies, who allow but very few of them to escape.
A somewhat similar plan is adopted with the pound, into which the bisons are driven by the hunters. The pound is an enclosure made of felled trees and branches, with an opening which gradually widens. The bisons are driven toward the enclosure, a task which often occupies several weeks, and, when they arrive within the fatal arms of the entrance, are urged forward by means of little fires, which are lighted on either side. Instinct urges the animals to escape from an element which sweeps over vast districts of country, and kills every living thing in it, and in their haste they run toward the pound, in which they are at once shut up. It is fortunate for the hunters that the bisons do not know their own strength. They could easily break through the walls of the pound, but they mostly content themselves with turning round and round, and passively await the arrival of the destroyer. So foolish are they in this respect, and in such numbers are they killed, that pounds have been built of the bones of slaughtered bisons.
In the winter another plan of hunting the bison is followed. At this time of the year the fur or “pelt” of the bison is the thickest and warmest, and the skin is of the most value. It is from these skins that the “buffalo” rugs and robes are made, without which out-of-door life would be scarcely endurable in the more northern parts of this vast continent.
During the winter months the prairies assume a new aspect. They are not only covered with snow, so that the ordinary landmarks are obliterated, but the snow is blown by the wind into the most fantastic shapes, raised in some places into long and sharply scarped hills where no hills were, forming level plains where the ground is really cut up by hollows, and leaving only the tops of eminences bare, whence the snow is blown away by the tempestuous winds that sweep across the vast expanse. On these hills the bison congregate for the purpose of grazing, shovelling away with their broad noses the snow which still clings to the herbage.
The animals instinctively keep clear of the small but treacherous plains and valleys, knowing that the hidden crevices may at any time swallow them up. Into these valleys the hunters try to drive them, so that they may be helplessly entangled in the snow, and fall easy victims to the spear. Were it not for some invention whereby the hunters are enabled to skim over the surface of the snow, the bisons would be in perfect safety, but the snow shoe lays the poor animals at the mercy of their pursuers. It is necessary first to describe this ingenious implement.